


embarrassment & exertion

by smalltits



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humiliation, Omorashi, Watersports, it gets a lil spicy w abraham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltits/pseuds/smalltits
Summary: For an ironically bittersweet moment, she can forget all of her sins for the purpose of focusing on her bladder, which makes her feel like she’s going to burst like a water balloon.





	embarrassment & exertion

**Author's Note:**

> I know sasha was in her angery sniper phase before she started dating abraham so this doesn’t work in canon but whatever ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Sasha interrupted her scan of Alexandria’s outskirts to aim towards a walker’s head and pull the rifle trigger in a very quick succession. She had only been familiar with the practice of killing the living dead for only about - a year? A little under a year. 

Not like anyone was keeping calendars. But it was a process that had virtually become muscle memory to her now - so that she did it so often that she could ensure no diminishment in her skill anytime soon. Though most nights she would fulfill the night shift in ASZ’s bell tower, and she couldn’t even feel moderate enjoyment in the excruciatingly simple and monotonous task anymore. 

Attesting to this, she momentarily lowered her firearm and groaned at her simultaneous feelings of tiredness and restlessness. It was two-in-the-morning and she was five hours into a shift where she stood in the incessant sound of crickets, and warm Virginia fog. Earlier was a toiling day of complacently helping build the new wall around Alexandria. What could possibly be keeping poor Sasha awake?

Sasha was still dealing with the vicious disaster where her boyfriend was killed by a heartless clan of cannibals, and her brother - a genuinely hard-working and gracious person, her fucking last surviving family member - got bitten by a rogue zombie, all within two weeks of each other. All this within a month of her reaching Alexandria, where people had walls for protection and could go get food whenever they wanted (what a fucking concept).

Sasha didn’t want to have any notions of comfort, serenity, or safety in her life. Why couldn’t I have died and gotten one a death too soon instead of him or him, was a thought that crossed her mind - every day? No, every goddamned waking hour. She wanted to suffer. She wasn’t going to let herself rest, and she wasn’t going to let the walking dead that killed her loved ones roam aimlessly, and let anybody else suffer the same miserable existence she had.

Certainly, Sasha wasn’t playing the proverbial ‘defense’ anymore, not leaving the bell tower unless the blood in her veins ran cold, or every walker ate a bullet from her silenced sniper rifle.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, Sasha’s grand-scale task was beginning to be hindered by her body. The lack of rest of body and mind made it feel like gravity times one-hundred was pushing down on her. And at the same time, those two things were keeping her awake. Intrusive thoughts kept her alert up top. Something else kept her alert down below.

Frankly, she was ready to take a piss.

She had tried to ignore it for a while. Part of her increasingly worsening self-hate routine included withholding food and water from herself. There wasn’t any food in the watchtower, but someone was kind enough to leave a six-pack of water bottles in the water-tower (probably Aaron. Fuck him and his big heart.) Sasha is strong, but the lack of sleep made her weak: she physically couldn’t withstand not drinking the water. Now, the pressure between her legs was threatening to weaken her again. And because the sniper loathed herself so, she would hold off on relieving herself of the rising discomfort for as long as possible.

But now, the discomfort was too much for her to handle. Starting roughly fifteen minutes ago, she constantly needed to keep her legs clenched together. She struggled to keep the scope crosshairs aligned with anything, shaking and distracted. She got her first “bladder pang” and it almost brought her to her knees, wincing softly.

Sasha eventually decided that she needed to break her loathing cycle and pee if she was going to continue. She lowered the sniper rifle in defeat, which allowed her to see the larger image of the woods opposite Alexandria.

Her visuals were accompanied by a rising crescendo of zombie wailing and growing. Shuffling out of the forest at different increments, two to the left, three in the middle, four more on the right. It had been an hour since any “activity”, and the vicious gunwoman should have been ready to be the maestro of the undead cacophony.

Acting on reflex, she raised her firearm and took out one in what was likely less than 5 seconds. Acting on unwanted reflex, her bladder responds by giving her a sheer feeling of panic and loss of control. She snaps her legs together quicker than light, keeling over before heaving the scope up again. She takes two more shots, and one misses completely. Three more shots, and she hit one in the leg, merely leaving it crawling.

The sniper leans forward violently to reach more of the small group, which is closing towards the wall. There’s only two left now, but the “clearing” instinct still manages to fill her. She immediately rues that decision. This time she wasn’t as quick to mend her mistake of moving too quickly. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” she murmurs sharp and breathless. That was it - she felt a leak, staining just the bottom side of her crotch. Her knees buckled. Her breathing was fast and heavy.

This is not good.

For an ironically bittersweet moment, Sasha can forget all of her sins for the purpose of focusing on her bladder, which makes her feel like she’s going to burst like a water balloon. She has to put all of her energy into not leaking any more as she struggles down the bell tower ladder and into Alexandria’s walls. At some point, she also gives up trying to not grab herself, and nearly moans in relief when she shoves her hand between her legs. Her face flushes even more in embarrassment and exertion.

What if someone saw her like this? Those nasty intrusive thoughts come back to her on the trip. She looked almost completely pathetic. The discomfort was now pain - she was on the verge of tears from it all - and her thighs were clamped together hard. The only thing keeping her from bouncing her legs like a little kid was walking. She wasn’t known particularly as a strong and inspiring person, but as a ruthless and incessant zombie slayer in Alexandria - more so than anyone else. They’d probably fucking laugh at her if they saw her shaking and crying in desperation.

Luckily, Sasha was able to make it to her house without wetting. Her door was in sight, and then the inside would be, and then the bathroom, and -

Abraham sits on the front porch, not making himself known to her until he softly calls, “Hey, sugar.”

Sasha straightens herself out immediately, turning to face Abraham. She hides the distress on her face surprisingly well for someone who was just having suicidal thoughts related to her bladder exploding. She’s comfortable around Abe, sure, but potty dancing in front of him?

“Long night, huh? I heard all your shots,” he drawled, “That’s some tough fucking work you’re doing, y’know. We’ve all gotten back to life in the suburbs, and you’re still working away at those hordes.”

Sasha wouldn’t be surprised if her exhaustion was making her face look like it was melting right off. Abraham’s presence was one of the few things that made her content, but she was frantically trying to get inside. She weakly summoned a smile before starting, “Come on, let’s get inside…”

But Abraham was taking infuriatingly long to take in the sights of his girlfriend. She always looked so goddamned cute when she was tired - eyes heavy with exhaustion and delirium, body moving torpidly with the same. She let him carry some of her weight as she leaned into him (the cause of such weakness unknown to Abe). He’s been thinking about her all day.

Sasha is in such a state she doesn’t even fully process that they’re kissing.

A moment later, Abe pulls away. There’s nobody else awake in Alexandria. He was definitely one to not give up the simple pleasures in life just because it was the zombie apocalypse. And something as kinky as semi-public sex with a beautiful woman has been, and always will be, his idea of a good time.

“Let’s screw around, baby. C’mere,” he whispers. He starts to rest his head in the nook of her neck, and his hands begin to wander down to her pants waistband.

“Wait, w-wait,” Sasha stutters, and she is lifted out of her stupor immediately, as his hands drift rather firm over her bladder. In reflexive retaliation, her hands moving quickly from behind his back to her own hips, but he’s quicker. As soon as he starts toying with her clit, she’s done for.

“Abe, Abe!” Sasha pleads with Abraham. She can fucking feel her panties getting drenched, and the feeling of Abraham’s eyes on her puts her into panic mode. The sniper jams a hand between her thighs in a last effort to stop the flow - awkwardly and inadvertently trapping Abe’s hand in there with her. She looks up to Abraham in distress with wetting eyes, who is rather wide-eyed and generally bewildered as to what the fuck is going on. However, it doesn’t take long for him to realize.

“Baby, what-” The ginger exclaims and yanks his hand away. Much to the humiliation of Sasha, his eyes are drawn to the lewd sight of her legs trembling in both pain and relief - slowly being drenched in piss. Her brain is clouded up in the sensation of both relief and utter mortification, and all she can do is muster out a feeble whine.

Finally, the stream stopped into a large puddle around Sasha’s boots. Her quivery legs were covered in dark, wet streaks. Not even realizing it, she grabbed onto Abe’s body for support at some point, her fists balled up in his jacket fabric. “Abra-hham…” she cried lowly, “I’m rr-eally ssorry…”. She needed comfort from him, and needed to be very alone at the same time. If only her mental breakdown didn’t involve this.

“Sash.” Abe’s strong voice was almost somber in a way, and such a change in tone commanded Sasha to meet her eyes with his. Her whole face seemed to shiver; her eyes were watering, and he hated to see her - not just his darling, but a person he really so weak like this.

“You’re gonna okay. I mean, uh,” He didn’t usually stutter, but Sasha was too much in an upset stupor to notice. Her expression didn’t change, and Abe cupped her chin. “You’re the best damn sniper south of the Mason-Dixon. No amount of quite literal piss is gonna change that, honey.” 

The pun definitely made a corner of Sasha’s mouth perk up. She still felt too humiliated to say anything for the time being, but it reaffirmed something in her mind she already knew: she needed Abraham. Not just when she was strong and needed support, but when she was weak, too. 

Still sniveling, she braced herself against him once more, and they started moving towards the house. Abraham ragged, “Yeah, later I can get you a whole different kind of wet.” The joke was so bad that Sasha had to slap him lightly, still.


End file.
